The Police
by Scarified
Summary: Why does a simple policeman look so familiar...? An unexpected encounter on an endless road. One shot.


**Disclaimer: Batman is property of DC comics. I don't own any characters or settings etc etc. I just play with them.**

Rating: General

A/N: This is something weird, meaningless and harmless I came up with one day. It's a oneshot.

A POLICE

And it was a beautiful day...

A long road continued as far as he was able to see and its surface was vibrating with heat far away in the distance. It was like water that disappeared once he reached it, always running farther and farther away from him, as if luring him into somewhere. The sun was shining almost too brightly, too bright to be real and grass, trees, everything had this deep and rich color, almost as if in a dream.

It was a rare weather in Gotham. Not too hot, not too cold, and it was almost amazing how every time it seemed to be too hot, cool wind caressed his face with its soft hands, making everything strangely perfect. It was nothing extreme like Gotham's weather usually tended to be. The only extreme thing was that it was extremely beautiful.

It was a perfect day for Bruce to take a ride near the countryside with his convertible sportscar and for once enjoy himself and forget the past, the present and the future because all of those were too dark to think.

The past because a lunatic had just a few weeks ago murdered his true love and killed the only good person Gotham city had seen in, perhaps, decades.

The present because his alter ego was now an outlaw and all the losses of the past still heavily dimmed the sun that maybe once had shone at his life with full, enjoyable rays.

The future because it didn't seem to be worth waiting due to all mishaps he had encountered so far.

Right now he was more alone than ever, more miserable than ever but at this very second he didn't think about it. As his butler had said to him early in the morning; a day off would be good for him and forgetting everything for a while would be even better. Bruce had doubted it would work at all but now that he thought about it he really felt better than he had felt for months. Alfred really seemed to know what he talked about.

Robert Plant was screaming 'whole lotta love' in the radio while he accelerated on the endless road, listening how beautifully the engine roared and looking up to the cloudless, pale blue sky. Things really seemed to be a little too perfect today.

And then he heard the siren. It was a miracle he even heard it through the loud engine but the car, being a convertible, had its advantages. He first thought that somewhere had been an accident and now that he knew about it he should at least find out what it was all about. He was just about to crab his iphone to call Alfred and ask if there was anything strange going on in the city but then he happened to glance at his rear-view mirror.

-"Shit!" he cursed aloud. Why hadn't he realized the most obvious thing at first? Sure, it was easy to jump to conclusions and always think about the worst at first, it was his nature, but that nature of his also included his habit of going rather fast with everything on wheels and that had led to the heaps of well-deserved speeding tickets from the police. Hence it should have been self-evident and not so suprising to see a motorcycle cop driving behind him with flashing lights and howling sirens.

_So much for the perfect day... _he thought while slowing down and eventually stopping at the shoulder of the road. He took his sunglasses off and squinted his eyes a bit because of brightness. He heard how the siren fell silent and how the motorcycle's engine's roars slowly died.

The cop stopped right next to him and as Bruce looked at him, trying to look innocent to keep up his reputation, he failed miserably at that because he was a bit baffled by the cop's apparel. Nothing was wrong with his clothing; it was a normal motorcycle police's outfit with leather boots, dark blue jacket and trousers and back leather gloves. The way he had covered his head, though, was a little strange.

White helmet was an understandable and pretty necessary item. So were the huge pilot-sunglasses with mirrored lenses that pilots and - for some strange reason - motorcycle cops tend to wear. What really got his attention was a black half mask which covered his mouth and a half of his nose. He knew that there shouldn't have been anything weird in that, for some motorcyclists wore masks to cover their mouths but he had never seen such mask on a policeman. All the three usual accessories - the helmet, the sunglasses and the mask - became very unusual when combined and put on the head of a police officer.

He wasn't sure why it was so disturbing. Maybe because he saw only one measly inch of his face between the mask and the glasses. That inch was the only proof that there really was somebody under that regalia and it was strangely relieving. He caught himself thinking idiotic things and concluded that he truly was in a need of a holiday.

-"Speeding, are we?" The cop asked rather rethorically as he took a notebook from the pocket of his belt. His voice was rather low but somehow animated. It wasn't a dull officer-voice, it was strangely full and there was a whisper-like huskyness in it and for some reason...it sounded familiar.

-"Was I?" Bruce asked with a hint of innocence, even though he knew that he had got caught red-handed. The cop probably looked at him slowly - he couldn't tell because he didn't see his eyes or anything else of his face but he had this feeling of being watched - and then he turned back to his notebook and wrote something.

-"Yes, you were. It somehow escaped your notice that your speedometer showed over ninety miles per hour, hm?" he asked while writing, tilting his head a bit. Okay, now Bruce had to decide that it wasn't his voice that sounded familiar, it was the intonation of it. And that inquireing 'hm' in the end of the sentence made it almost unnervingly familiar. He had probably heard him talking while listening to the police-radio or then when he had had something to do with the police (_before I became an outlaw..._he thought dryly)...or the worst-case scenario would be that he had personally met this cop sometimes and now he couldn't identify him because the man had covered his face so perfectly that it looked almost intentional. Not that it could be. Maybe the cop had fined him before?

-"Really?" Bruce asked, round-eyed with suprise. Over ninety miles per hour?! -"My apologies, I didn't even notice", he said sincerely and was telling the truth. He hardly ever noticed when he was speeding if he didn't keep an eye on the speedometer. It always just sort of happened when he was having a good time (or when he was chasing someone) and he couldn't really help it.

The cop leaned back a bit on his bike, seemingly still writing.

-"Sure you didn't....can I see your driver's licence and registration certificate, please?" Bruce could tell that he didn't believe him but that wasn't new as no cop ever believed him when he said that he didn't notice. Sometimes it was a bit annoying, the way they talked down to him, but he understood them. They probably had to deal with poor excuses and explanations from road hogs few times a day. He would really have to try and observe the speed limits more in the future.

Bruce took his licence and regeistration certificate from the visor and handed them over to the cop who took them without a word. He took his sunglasses off and scrutinized the certificate. His eyes also looked vaguely familiar. He wasn't sure if they were brown or green because he was polite enough not to stare but they definitely looked familiar. The shape, the eyebrows... There was a slightly curly strand of blond hair hanging over his forehead. He couldn't see anything more of his hair due to his helmet.

The cop looked at his driver's licence next. And then, at the same time Bruce was again looking at his face and trying to decide who the hell he was, the cop sifted his eyes to him. Bruce averted his eyes quickly and almost cursed under his breath. So he just couldn't be even more conspicuous? Some ninja he was.

-"Mr. Wayne, is it...?" the cop asked as his left eyebrow rose a bit, leaving the other slanted and forming slight wrinkles on his forehead, which made him look even more familiar. He looked at the licence again, as if trying to find any signs of forgery and then he looked at Bruce.

-"Yes", Bruce said tersely and wondered why the cop didn't seem to believe him. It was widely known fact that he had enough speeding tickets to build a house out of them, so it shouldn't be a suprise to find him behind the wheel of a car that goes about 100 miles/hour.

-"So, you're the Ba -- billionare, that is...hmm, interesting...", he looked at Bruce...excitedly...? and it was like he'd been smiling under the mask.

At this point Bruce got wary. The look on the cop's face brought something malicious into his mind, something he couldn't quite place, but he got a very bad feeling about it. The way his voice changed at the beginning of the sentence was strange...it sounded a little nasal, and Bruce didn't like the way he struggled with the word 'billionare'. Like he was going to say something else...like...

_No. It's not possible. I'm over-reacting again. Everyone gets tongue-tied every once in a while, he wasn't going to say anything else. _He tried to reassure himself but he couldn't deny the bad feeling he suddently got from the cop. And what's with the 'interesting'?

_It's nothing._

-"Are you new around here?" Bruce allowed himself to ask just to get himself more reassured. The cop tilted his head again but still looked straight into his eyes and said: -"Well, not ex-act-_ly_." Then his eyes began scrutinizing his....chin?

What the hell?!

Either the world had simply gone insane, he was having a strange dream or the cop was going all Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas on him. Or he was going crazy and seeing things that werent' really there.

_Okay. He didn't just look at my...chin._

_He doesn't sound familiar. I'm imagineing._

_He is just an ordinary cop who hasn't ever fined a famous billionaire before._

_That's it. That's all._

-"Uh...that's a nice car ya have", the cop said suddently, shattering Bruce's almost paniced thoughts. He stared at the cop and wondered if he had really said that and saw that the man was looking at his car with a critical eye. First Bruce didn't know what to say and when he realized that he must have looked like an idiot, gaping there with his mouth open, he quickly said: -"Yeah...it's Lamborghini. I just bought it few weeks ago..."

-"I see....kinda like the other one better, though..."

......

....

.....

What?

What?!

Bruce froze completely. He still stared at this stranger who so casually sat on his motorbike, eyeing his car, and somehow - he couldn't explain how - he knew it was irrational, but he just knew that the cop was talking about the tumbler. He realized how paranoid his thoughts were but he couldn't see it any other way. This guy was talking about the tumbler, he was so sure about it.

_No he's not -I 'm just -I 'm an idiot -paranoid - this isn't happening - shit of course it's happening - I'm just jumping to conclusions - wrong conclusions..._

-"What did you say?" He asked warily. The cop glanced at him and obviously smiled. Bruce couldn't see his mouth but at least his eyes were smiling.

-"Nevermind", he said....was he smirking? as he put the sunglasses back on. He also tucked the notebook nonchalantly back to his belt. Bruce kept staring at him: -"Wh-- what about my ticket?" he asked before realizing how stupid it actually sounded like. The cop leaned closer to him, so close that Bruce was able to see his own face clearly from the reflection of his sunglasses' lenses. He also saw that there was something white paint-like on his collar...not much, but it was there.

-"No tickets for you, Brucey."

It was something between whisper, raspy outhale and guttural grunt and that voice alone brought back too many memories that he'd rather forget. Bruce was nearly in a comatose state when the cop leaned back and was seemingly just about to start the engine when he turned back.

-"You know....I thought you'd be taller and, uh, you know...wider", he gestured wildly with his hands, "but you look strangely, uum.._shrinked_ this way without, you know, your suite and stuff..." he turned the engine on and behind its earshattering roars Bruce was able to hear the one last thing the stranger said to him before he speeded away, probably going over 100 miles/hour himself.

He didn't say it...

No...

It was his imagination...

The motor had distorted his words...he had heard wrong....

Bruce inhaled deeply as he watched the motorbike speed away and become a part of the illusional water that was on the road far in the distance. He took his shaking hands off the steering wheel and just then he realized that the cop had taken his licence and registration.

The cop.

No he wasn't a cop. He wasn't. Bruce didn't know who he was... He had this completely irrational hunch he didn't want to acknowledge. He didn't want to think about that opportunity but he knew it was there, gaiting in his mind's subconscious pen, waiting for the right moment to jump over the fence into his thoughts.

He was in Arkham. Period. Had been there at this morning and he was there at this moment. End of story. Bury that opportunity.

But somehow he was so...stunned...

Stunned enough not to care that the co....the stranger had taken his driver's licence and registration.

Stunned enough to still sit there at the shoulder of the empty road.

Stunned enough to shake.

There was no sign of the stranger anymore and Bruce wasn't sure whether that was a relief or not. Seeing no-one but still hearing his voice in his head was beyond disturbing, and it wasn't only the voice that did that to him. It was also what the voice had said.

_What I think he said. _Bruce corrected in his mind.

He tried to convince himself that he had misunderstood the cop. His mind had just made that weird connection which even wasn't really there and if Bruce had to quess why, he'd say because of the stress and everything that had happened lately.

Of course the cop had sounded nothing like _him. _His imagination.

He had looked nothing like _him. _Just because he had covered his mouth didn't mean that there was _something _hidden under that mask. His eyes had looked familiar but maybe he had seen the man before and didn't just remember him.

There had been something white on his shoulder but it wasn't necessarily greasepaint. Maybe it had been powder. Maybe his wife had kissed him good-bye before his working day and left there a smudge that had gone unnoticed by the man.

And then there was that talk about his other car and his suite...

Well. Maybe he meant his former Lamborgini which he had crashed while saving Coleman Reese. There had been a myriad of cops on the scene, so maybe this one had been there too. He pretended he was deaf when his subconscious hinted that the cop would have talked about his late car in the past tense, if that had been the case.

With the 'suite' he probably just referred to his working suite, tie and coat and all. He had probably seen him with his suite and now, because he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, his bearing was a little differend.

And he probably had stolen his licence because he had never seen him before in person and maybe he was a... Bruce felt himself stupid to even think about it, but maybe he was his, well, fan or something. Crazy fans tend to do strange things.

But he had nothing to explain away his last words with. Nothing.

So he assumed that he had heard wrong.

There was no chance the man had said

-"See you around, Batsy."

Bruce started the car and began to drive again, trying to think about these explanations he had came up with to keep up the illusion he had created. The illusion about the cop, even though he knew it hadn't been a cop. These creations in mind he started chasing the clear waters of the distance, never catching them.

Because they were just as real as his own illusion.

THE END.

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A/N: R&R, please. Oh, and by the way, I don't have beta so I'm sorry if I have burned your retinas because of some major grammar error. English isn't my first language (and you can probably see that) and even though I sure took my sweet time making corrections I'm sure there's still something wrong with this (linguistically I mean. If that's even a real word). But anyway, hope you liked it.


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